


follow you anywhere

by gabgee



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Canon, post tst and pre tdc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabgee/pseuds/gabgee
Summary: There had been so little time to merely exist in this crumbling world that now, sitting at Newt’s side, Thomas felt himself relax and absorb what was happening in the moment for the first time in months.Or maybe he was just drunk.(or: Thomas is upset by Newt's nonchalant attitude to their drunken kiss because he assumes it means he doesn't feel anything for him)





	follow you anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> set in the six months we didn't see between the scorch trials and the death cure!

The fire was crackling gently and Thomas watched as the flames danced over the burning embers. It was all he could focus on, his mind hazy as it was. He’d only experienced this feeling once before on his first night in the Glade, hastily consuming Gally’s disgusting brew in order to calm his insatiable nerves. Now, he was slowly sipping on an amber-coloured liquid Jorge had found hoards of on a run. They were all pretty sure it was out of date - though it tasted fine - and Thomas thought that might explain why his brain was mush after only two cups. He tried to articulate this thought to the person sat on his left.

“Nah, I reckon you’re just a lightweight, Tommy,” Newt replied with a grin. Thomas shoved at his shoulder with his own and laughed, turning his attention back to Brenda, Frypan and Jorge’s discussion.

The five of them sat around a small bonfire they’d set up on the beach, a little way from where the rest of the camp were socialising. Thomas was ecstatic for a night like this with the people he felt most comfortable with. Minus Minho, of course. Two months without him was beginning to feel more like two years, but they were expanding on their plan to rescue him more and more each day. He was hopeful, but it still felt like there was a missing piece from the puzzle of their family.

But they’d decided they needed a break from all that. Usually, their days of talking about how to get Minho, Sonya, Aris and the others flowed into nights of doing much of the same. Constant worrying and theorising, along with trying to understand why Teresa had betrayed them - but tonight, Jorge had made them promise as he handed out drinks, they were banned from any kind of fretting. As a result they’d been chatting absentmindedly for an hour or so about the camp and its members. Thomas almost felt guilty for letting his mind go blank, even if it was only for a few hours. He tried to push that feeling away.

“I’m worried about Harriet,” Brenda said quietly, just as Thomas managed to tune back into the conversation. “She hardly talks to anyone unless it’s about plans.”

“I think she’s just focused on getting her friends back, Bren,” Jorge replied.

“So are we, though.”

They were all silent for a few moments as they considered this. Thomas glanced over to where the others were wandering around and chatting near a larger fire. Brenda was right; Harriet sat alone, looking solemn and distant.

“Let’s go talk to her, then,” Frypan suggested with an easy smile which Brenda returned as she allowed him to pull her to her feet. Jorge instantly followed. “You guys coming?”

Thomas turned to Newt, studying him through heavy-lidded eyes. He looked almost as tipsy as Thomas felt, twisting his cup between his hands, cheeks blushed pink. His hair was getting long, the fringe flopping over his forehead as he stared down at the sand. It was good look on him, Thomas found himself thinking. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it along with several drunken words that threatened to spill from his lips.

“Be there in a minute,” Thomas said with a smile that he intended for Frypan, but ended up being aimed at Newt, who nodded in agreement. Frypan rolled his eyes with a smirk. 

“Liars,” he snorted, jogging after Brenda and Jorge before Thomas had the chance to reply.

“Why are we liars?” Newt asked.

“Dunno,” Thomas answered honestly with a scoff. “Apparently he thinks we’ll be longer than a minute.”

“And why would that be?” Newt’s voice was lower than usual; Thomas put this down to the alcohol and tried to ignore the shiver it sent down his spine. They were sat unnecessarily close considering it was just the two of them, now; their shoulders touched and knees knocked together as they leaned against the log behind them. Thomas told himself it was to conserve heat. After all, Newt was wearing a t-shirt, no jacket. Not that he’d noticed.

“Maybe he thinks we’re having a heart to heart. Anything you want to get off your chest?” Thomas tried to joke, but as he met Newt’s gaze his voice faltered and came out more like a whisper. Newt had the good grace to laugh anyway.

“Bloody hell, we’d need several hours for that.”

They both chuckled but Thomas knew it was a thinly veiled disguise. He knew they were both missing Minho. They were both scared that they wouldn’t work out how to get him back. They were both terrified of what they’d find if (when, Thomas corrected himself) they did.

Luckily, neither of them actually had to voice these concerns, for they both knew what the other was feeling. Thomas felt as though they could read each other’s minds sometimes. They’d both known to hang back from the others tonight, needing a moment to breath and just be. There had been so little time to merely exist in this crumbling world that now, sitting at Newt’s side, Thomas felt himself relax and absorb what was happening in the moment for the first time in months.

Or maybe he was just drunk.

Newt elbowed Thomas gently in the ribs. “Can practically hear your brain whirring in there, Tommy. Whatcha thinking?”

“This is nice,” Thomas responded without much consideration for the consequences of what he was about to say.

“‘This’ being…?” Newt queried with a teasing smile.

“Just sitting here. By the fire and the sea. ’S’cool,” Thomas said, trying his very best not to slur his words or give in to the warmth creeping up his neck that had nothing to do with the flames that roared in front of them.

“That’s a bit bloody romantic, Tommy,” Newt said, still smirking. Thomas wished he’d stop and revert back to his trademark soft frown; the fond expression was doing nothing for his pounding heart or rosy cheeks. “How many drinks have you had?”

“Less thank you, shank.”

“Ah, so you are a lightweight.”

 

As it turned out, Frypan was right. Thomas and Newt barely moved an inch for the next hour. They’d let their drunken minds take control of their mouths and talked about everything they could think of that, for once, didn’t centre around WCKD. Thomas hadn’t allowed himself to think of anything - for want of a better word - normal in so long and it was refreshing, to say the least.

“Wonder when our birthdays are,” Thomas said suddenly after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Could be today,” Newt replied with a laugh.

“Both of ours? That seems a little convenient.”

“Maybe we’re twins.” Newt widened his eyes in mock-surprise and Thomas shook with laughter as he finished his fourth (or was it his fifth?) drink.

“I hope not.” Thomas hadn’t meant for the words to come out so sharply but they did, hovering between the two boys with an inexplicable weight to them. He hoped Newt didn’t read too much into exactly why he wouldn’t want them to be brothers. Newt simply raised his eyebrows and finished his own drink.

“I’ll try not to take that personally, Tommy,” he said eventually.

“Yo, lovebirds!” Frypan called from a short distance away. Thomas’ insides burned at the nickname and he opened and closed his mouth several times trying to think of a retort. Newt simply rolled his eyes and shouted back.

“What, Fry?”

Thomas silently cursed his friend for being so calm in situations like these. It wasn’t the first time over the past couple of months that they’d been teased over their friendship. Thomas was fairly sure Frypan and Brenda had a bet going to see who could make him blush the most. It was torturous, yet Newt always laughed it off without a second thought, confirming in Thomas’ mind that there was no way Newt was feeling the same way as he was - though he wasn’t even sure himself what he was feeling. One thing he did know was that since they’d had more and more chances to be alone together in their new camp, Thomas was beginning to get impatient at being interrupted in moments like these.

“Everyone’s heading out. Just wanted to let you know,” Frypan responded, eyes twinkling. “Night!”

Thomas called back a half-hearted goodnight and pushed himself off the ground. Newt followed his movements with his eyes before sighing and getting up himself. Thomas instinctively placed a supporting hand under Newt’s arm, moving it to his shoulder once he was stood.

“You good?” Thomas asked, fingertips twitching on the soft fabric of Newt’s shirt.

“Yeah. Thanks, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded and dropped his hand to his side but didn’t make any move to walk away, as Newt was fixing him with a contemplative stare. He laughed softly and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“What?”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?” Thomas was confused. Was he really that intoxicated or was Newt just making no sense? He couldn’t really be sure. The close proximity of their faces was almost as off-putting as the alcohol, which strongly urged him to sway on the spot.

“Ask me if I’m alright and stuff.”

“Oh?” Thomas started to laugh but Newt’s expression held nothing but genuine curiosity. “Oh. Um — I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be. It’s cute.” Thomas’ heart skipped several beats and he forcefully reminded himself that Newt was drunk and probably didn’t mean much of what he was saying. Newt hurried onto his next words. “It’s important we check on each other. I try to do the same.”

“Are you kidding? Newt, you’re always making sure everyone’s okay. You definitely do the same.”

“Yeah, no, I know, I just mean…”

Newt looked away awkwardly, his eyes unfocused. Thomas wanted to reach out to him. But he didn’t.

“Newt, tell me.”

“I try to do the same with you. Before you showed up, I… it wasn’t usually the other way round, with people checking up on me. It was usually just me to them. Does that make sense?”

“I think so.” Thomas really wished he hadn’t finished his last drink so quickly; maybe it would’ve helped him get a grasp on the meaning of Newt’s words faster. “You mean I’m the only one who makes sure you’re alright whilst you’re busy checking everyone else is fine?”

“Not the only one, but…”

“Yeah. I get you.”

“Guess I’m just trying to say thanks, Tommy. For being a good friend. I do try and do the same for you.”

“C’mon, man. You do the same. You’re the only one who…”

Thomas couldn’t save the sentence as it trailed off into the night. He’d made the mistake of looking Newt straight in the eye and almost choked upon seeing the expression that was settled on his face. His eyes flickered down to Thomas’ lips and up again, full of warmth and tenderness. Thomas wanted to make a joke about how drunk he was, how drunk they both were, how this was dumb and funny and awkward.

Instead, when Newt leaned towards him, he met him halfway.

 

Thomas awoke the next morning with a banging headache and a sense of dread. He looked to his left across the tent and saw Frypan still fast asleep. And to his right, so was Newt.

Looking at him made his stomach lurch and Thomas couldn’t tell if it was the nerves or the memories of last night that were more prominent. He let out a long, shaky breath and sat up slowly, intending to leave the tent before either of his friends woke up. Newt in particular. He needed to get his own thoughts in line before he was influenced by anything Newt said or did.

However, as he swung his legs off of the bed and pulled on a t-shirt, Newt’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned, placing a hand over his eyes. Thomas couldn’t help but smile a little at this, though his heart had dropped into his stomach at the sight of the boy waking. He wondered if Newt even remembered what had happened last night. Surely he must. Though they were drunk, Thomas’ mind had never been clearer as it forced him to relive every second of what happened.

“I feel like shit,” Newt whispered hoarsely, throwing a casual smile in Thomas’ direction. Yet another thing to make his organs somersault unpleasantly.

“Yeah, same.” Thomas was a little uneasy with how relaxed Newt seemed in his presence. His own words came out strangled and awkward.

“You gettin’ up already?”

“Uh, was just going to… get water,” Thomas muttered, standing up abruptly. And as an afterthought: “You want some?”

“Tommy, you are a lifesaver,” Newt said, stretching his arms above his head. Thomas averted his eyes as the sheets shuffled down to reveal Newt’s bare shoulders and chest.

“Since you two shanks woke me up, you can get me some, too,” Frypan mumbled, face buried in his pillow. Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d forgotten he and Newt weren’t alone.

He exited the tent, mumbling about not being their mother, and put his middle finger over his shoulder when he could hear them laughing at him as he left.

 

The rest of the day dragged for Thomas. He was unbelievably anxious, a feeling he wasn’t really used to. Oddly, he could cope with constant fear and an impending sense of doom but this niggling, churning nervousness was completely new to him and he didn’t know how to handle it. Luckily, they were due to spend most of the day holed up trying to plan a rescue mission. 

He tried his best to listen as Jorge explained how he’d managed to bug WCKD’s airline communication system, but every few seconds his eyes would flicker to Newt and his breathing would quicken again. This is torture, Thomas thought, before scolding himself for his dramatic choice of words when Minho, Aris and Sonya were probably… actually, he couldn’t bear to consider what WCKD was doing to them right now.

The issue was, Newt was fine. He was involved and present and talkative - maybe even more than usual - and it was driving Thomas insane. The idea that Newt was completely functioning despite what had happened last night made him feel like shit, to put it bluntly. Clearly, it hadn’t affected him or meant as much to him as it had Thomas, though he hated to admit that it meant anything at all, even to himself.

Newt’s casual touches burned like wildfire. It was nothing out of the blue for them - a pat on the back or a hand on a shoulder. In fact, Thomas usually found it comforting to feel the weight of his friend’s touch. Now, it made Thomas flinch unsubtly and blush so much he was beginning to feel like a pathetic schoolboy with a crush. Newt noticed.

“You alright there, Tommy?” he asked smugly as they left their meeting room in the afternoon, an arm slung loosely over Thomas’ shoulders. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Uh, yeah. Fine. Hangover, I guess?” Thomas wasn’t necessarily lying. He imagined this was what a hangover felt like; his head was still hurting, after all. There was no need to explain that he also felt like he was going to explode if Newt smirked knowingly over at him one more time. Or that he was slightly hurt by Newt’s nonchalance over the whole situation. The idea of confessing the latter made him want the ground to swallow him up.

“Mmm,” Newt hummed, dropping his hand. Thomas felt immensely relieved, though he shivered slightly at the coldness brought on by the lack of Newt’s warmth. “Like I said, Tommy, you’re a bloody lightweight.”

“Just need food,” Thomas lied, swerving off to the left where he spotted Frypan starting to serve up a late lunch. He glanced back for only a moment, but the blank stare Newt fixed on him nearly made him walk straight into the line of people eagerly waiting to be fed.

That evening, at dinner, Jorge suggested the six of them - upon invitation, Harriet had joined them - finish off the last bottle of alcohol he’d kept stashed by his bunk. “Hair of the dog” he called it; Thomas had no idea what this meant but quickly declined.

“Oh come on, Tommy,” Newt drawled, accepting his drink from Jorge with a smile. “Don’t be boring.” Thomas couldn’t help but glare at him across the table they sat around. He felt equally satisfied and guilty at the surprised expression that flickered across Newt’s features. “Alright, fine. Suit yourself.”

“I wanted to tell you guys first,” Jorge began quietly, throwing a nervous glance towards where Vince and several others sat not too far off. Thomas leaned forwards instinctively. On either side of him, he felt Brenda and Frypan do the same. “I heard something on the radios.”

Thomas drew in a breath and instinctively looked to Newt, who sat opposite him. He met his eyes with the same intensity Thomas was feeling and for a moment, any awkwardness between them was thawed by the thing that had always bonded them; their determination to save their friends.

“What was it?” Frypan prompted.

“They were talking about trains. I couldn’t make much out, but something about transportation of goods. I’d assumed they only use bergs…”

“If they’re willing to transport goods by train, maybe…” Brenda mused. Thomas knew the end of the sentence without having to ask; maybe, just maybe, their friends might have been on that train at some point, too. And maybe, if they followed it, they’d end up at the same place they were keeping them captive.

“We should watch the tracks,” Thomas said, his voice stronger than it had been all day. He looked around at all of them, observing Brenda and Frypan’s serious nods and Jorge’s threateningly eager smile. Harriet looked like she’d seen a ghost, but met his eyes with a strong gaze. Finally, he settled his eyes on Newt. “Me and you, tomorrow. See if anything comes past and which way it’s going if it does. We don’t tell Vince. Not yet.” 

He felt weird about going behind Vince’s back, but he had made it clear before that no unnecessary risks were to be taken throughout the execution of their rescue plan. As the weeks dragged on, the leader was becoming more and more wary about the fact they hadn’t made as much progress as they’d have liked. More than once, he’d made suggestions that they might have to leave without the others once they’d gathered more supplies. The thought of doing such a thing made Thomas’ blood boil.

“Shouldn’t we all go?” Brenda said carefully. Thomas shook his head.

“Too suspicious. Vince knows we’re the ones most set on getting them back. And it’s not that he’s against it, but I doubt he’d be too happy about us following a lead without more evidence.” Jorge furrowed his eyebrows at him, though he still smiled. “Not that it’s not good evidence,” he finished.

“So we stay here and tell him what?” Frypan murmured. “That you two are off on a little road trip? Your honeymoon?”

Thomas refused to let himself stumble when he’d finally found his strength again. So instead of backing away from the teasing, like always, he threw himself into it with a roll of his eyes. “Something like that.”

Jorge considered him with something that looked like pride. The others all mumbled their agreements. Thomas looked to Newt for confirmation, as he had done so many times before. It was always his approval that Thomas sought in the final, most important, moments - even when he was feeling more distant from him than ever.

“Good that, Tommy,” he said simply with a grin.

That was more than enough for him.

 

Thomas lay awake for several hours that night. The fire that had been reignited in him as they planned was abruptly put out when he stumbled into his bunk and was left alone with his thoughts. For a while, his brain was running over their new lead with excitement and determination being his strongest feelings. But then the reality of it dawned on him.

What the hell had he been thinking, suggesting that he and Newt go to watch the tracks together? Alone? It had been automatic; as much as he loved and trusted the rest of his friends, Newt was always his go-to sidekick in any plan. Or in… anything, really. And for a few hours he’d forgotten the fact that, since last night, looking at him had been making him feel as though his chest might cave in.

At first, Thomas tried to convince himself that he’d be feeling the same way if Newt’s part in the situation was switched with any of his friends. It was natural, surely, to feel awkward and nervous around the person you’d shared a drunken kiss with. 

Several drunken kisses, Thomas’ brain reminded himself.

But no, this was different. The butterflies in Thomas’ stomach had always been there in regards to Newt. It was just that the catalyst to his feelings rising to the surface was apparently the feel of his best friend’s lips against his. And his hands on his back. His shoulders. His neck. Running through his hair.

Thomas needed air.

He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the way the night sky was beginning to softly glow, he assumed it was nearing dawn. Thomas settled down on the beach and watched the water as it rippled, reflecting the moon. It calmed him down only slightly.

“The hell are you doin’, Tommy?”

Thomas closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, trying not to think about how even when he tried to escape Newt, he followed him everywhere. Both literally and figuratively. He tried to smile as he turned around.

“Can’t sleep.” Newt sat down next to him, right arm pressed to Thomas’ left. “Did I wake you up?”

“It’s fine,” Newt dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Thomas’ plan to keep cool was failing miserably; he couldn’t stop staring at his sleepy eyes or messy hair. He was so warm and soft and… it suddenly hit Thomas that it felt like he might not be able to recover if his suspicions were correct and Newt was unaffected and unbothered by the fact they’d kissed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out either way because either way, he could lose his best friend.

So when Newt gently placed his hand on the back of Thomas’ neck and looked him in the eyes in the same way he had done the night before, Thomas freaked.

“No!” he choked out, ripping Newt’s hand from his neck and shuffling away from him. “No, we can’t - you can’t - I’m not drunk, now, you can’t just…”

He’d managed to stand up and Newt copied him, staring at him in disbelief - an expression that quickly gave way to anger.

“Sorry, Tommy, didn’t realise that you had to be pissed in order to want me.”

“It’s not that,” Thomas whispered. Newt looked at him expectantly, but the words got stuck in his throat. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to tell Newt how much it would hurt him to lose him, how it was the fact he did still want him when he was sober that was the problem, so instead he stayed silent and merely shook his head with his mouth slightly agape.

Newt stared at him for several more achingly long moments before turning around and stalking back to their tent. Thomas watched him limp away, stared at the place he’d disappeared for a few minutes longer, then followed.

Newt had the good sense to pretend to be asleep by the time Thomas entered.

 

“You two ready to go? Brenda’s about to distract Vince,” Frypan called from the entryway to the tent, where Newt and Thomas were facing away from each other and packing their bags.

“Yeah,” Thomas breathed, hauling his rucksack onto his back. He’d packed some food, binoculars, a notepad, pen and spare items of clothing haphazardly, all whilst determinedly avoiding Newt’s personal space or line of sight. The silence had been deafening. 

“Let’s do this,” Newt said emotionlessly. Frypan glanced between the two of them briefly before nodding and waving them forwards.

Ten minutes later, Thomas sat in the passenger seat as Newt drove them towards the train tracks. It was a thirty-four minute long journey, Jorge had assured them. Thomas was sure it would be the tensest thirty-four minutes of his life and they were only three minutes in. Neither of them had said a word.

“Newt -“

“Don’t.”

Thomas finally tore his eyes away from his own eyes and looked at Newt, who stared fixedly at the road ahead. His jaw was clenched and his knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the wheel. But then he glanced at Thomas for a millisecond and his whole demeanour softened slightly. Thomas realised he must look completely pitiful.

“Please just leave it, Tommy.”

Thomas didn’t reply.

 

“Pull in here,” Thomas said (his voice cracked from so little use in the past half an hour), pointing to an upcoming gap in the trees on the path they were driving on. They were adjacent to the tracks but much farther up the mountain. Newt turned into the space and Thomas found that it was the ideal viewpoint for trainspotting.

“This good?”

“Perfect.”

They sat there for an hour, making occasional small talk about their mission and keeping their eyes trained on the tracks. Nothing passed. At one point Newt got out of the car to pull a few surrounding branches across the bonnet of the car. When he got back in, Thomas wanted to make a joke about what an ingenious disguise he’d established. He swallowed it down. The tension was palpable and Thomas didn’t think an unfunny joke was the way to break it.

Thomas reached for his bag in the back seat at the same time as Newt did. His hand collided with Newt’s forearm and Newt pulled back like he’d been burnt; pretending he hadn’t noticed, Thomas carried on and hauled his bag over into his lap.

“You got water?” he asked, voice thick, refusing to look up.

“Yeah, all good.”

“Food?”

“Tommy,” Newt said. Thomas looked at him and felt his heart jolt; his friend was smiling at him. It was small, but genuine. Thomas felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in return. “I’m perfectly capable of packing a bag.”

“I know that.”

“Good.”

Several silent minutes passed.

“Newt?” Thomas hated how his voice broke. He also hated how his tone exuded desperation for his best friend - even if it was just for him to talk to him, at the very least.

Newt’s head fell back against the headrest of his seat as he sighed. Thomas watched his movements warily. He could tell talking about… everything was the last thing Newt wanted to do right now, but the idea of sitting in the car for several more hours without talking about it was even more unbearable in Thomas’ opinion. Newt finally turned back to Thomas, his head still against the back of the seat. He raised his eyebrows. 

“Fine, go ahead, Tommy. Just… let me down gently, alright?”

Thomas blinked at him. “I - sorry, what?”

“Just say it. You think we’re better off as friends, it was a mistake, etcetera.”

“That’s not what I was going to say… like, at all.”

“Oh?” Newt raised his head now, eyebrows furrowed. Thomas wanted to laugh because he was so confused and stressed that everything was starting to seem slightly hilarious. He stopped himself. “What were you going to say?”

“I… don’t even know.” 

Newt laughed, but there wasn’t much humour behind it. Thomas let his head fall forward into his hands and pulled at his hair. This wasn’t going in any way how he’d have liked it to.

“I’m sorry, I guess,” Thomas breathed out, sitting up straight again.

“You guess?” 

“No, no. I’m sorry… that you thought I didn’t want you.”

“Was that not the case?”

“Jesus, Newt,” Thomas laughed. “Give me a chance. I’m struggling here.”

“I can see that. Was tryin’ to help,” Newt said, adjusting his position so that he was facing Thomas more. “Please continue.”

“You’re not making this easier,” Thomas mumbled, gesturing to Newt’s very face-on posture. Newt simply smirked, though his eyes were still serious and searching as they scanned Thomas’ face. “But, yeah. I’m sorry I made you think that and uh… no, that wasn’t the case.”

Thomas couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth. But he’d made a decision; losing his best friend out of anger would be a hundred times worse than losing him out of unrequited feelings. Which required him to confess.

“I stopped you last night because I couldn’t deal with it yesterday. With how awkward I felt around you. I wanted to act normal because you were but I don’t think I can.”

“Why did you feel awkward, though? Tommy, did I make you uncomfortable?”

Newt’s concerned expression was adorable. Thomas was desperate to kiss it off.

And the truth was, Newt did make him uncomfortable. But not in the sense Newt was asking about.

“No. Not exactly. It’s just you… didn’t care. You were fine. You went back to normal and acted like nothing had changed.”

“I didn’t care,” Newt repeated slowly, questioningly. “About what? You?”

“No! No,” Thomas said hastily. “Well, yeah.” Newt’s face fell. “Not, like, in general but — in the way I do.”

Newt stared at Thomas for a few seconds before sighing heavily and getting out of the car. Through the window, Thomas watched him lean up against his door. Dumbfounded, Thomas got out of his own seat and walked around until he was facing Newt.

“The fuck?”

“Sorry, Tommy.”

“Yeah, you should be,” Thomas spat. Everything that had happened over the last thirty-two hours had finally broken him. The anxiety, nerves, awkwardness; it all melted away and anger took hold of him instead. “You can’t do this to me, man. You can’t kiss me and then act like we’re fine and then walk away when I tell you I care about you. It’s not fair, I can’t cope with things like you do —“

“Why do you keep saying that? What the fuck makes you think I’m fine?” Newt shouted back. Thomas was glad they were finally experiencing the same emotion. It made it easier to say what he wanted to.

“Because you carried on like normal! Like nothing had changed! Maybe it hasn’t for you but for me that was a big deal, okay? I don’t know how many of your friends you go around kissing, but -“

“Don’t you dare try and insinuate anything like that, Tommy. And yeah, I acted like nothing had changed because the only thing that I thought had changed was that I was finally allowed to fuckin’ kiss you. But clearly I got the wrong end of the stick and you just want act like we’re just best buddies when clearly we’re more than that. So go ahead, Tommy, carry on ignoring your feelings, but I can’t live like that anymore.”

“I literally just told you I care about you. What part of that makes you think I want to act like we’re just friends?”

“The part where you’re yellin’ at me for not acting like an idiot just because we kissed?” Newt said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Thomas wanted to tear his own hair out because nothing about this situation was obvious to him. He took a step forward so that he and Newt were mere inches apart.

“But that’s exactly what makes me think you don’t care! The fact you can act normal.”

“Because it is normal to me, Tommy! You’re my best friend and I’m in love with you and I didn’t think kissing you would make you a damn difference! I thought it’d mean we could carry on as we were, just…” Newt trailed off with a defeated sigh.

Thomas stared at him. Newt’s eyes were wide and his chest heaved. His hair was sticking up at the side from where he’d run a hand through it. He looked angry and upset and confused and —

“You’re in love with me?” Thomas whispered. Newt rolled his eyes.

“No — well, I don’t buggin’ know but that’s not the point —“

Thomas grabbed the collar of Newt’s jacket with both hands and pushed him against the car as he kissed him.

It had none of the hesitancy of two nights ago. Then it had been gentle touches, tentative movements and drunken mumbles of “can I —?” from Newt. This time, Thomas didn’t give him a moment to speak in between firm kisses and bitten lips. The breathy, surprised sounds Newt was making against his mouth were enough to drive Thomas insane.

By the time Thomas reluctantly pulled back, one hand was still firmly locked on Newt’s jacket whilst the other had weaved its way into his soft, blonde hair. He tugged at it as he looked at Newt, who seemed to be in a state of disbelief. Thomas began to panic slightly; his friend’s hands hadn’t moved from his sides and his entire expression radiated shock. Was this not what Newt had wanted?

“Sorry… was that not — was that too much?” Thomas muttered, eyes drifting from wide eyes to swollen red lips as he disentangled his hands and placed them on the car on either side of Newt’s head. 

Relief flooded through Thomas’ veins as Newt broke into a smile, then a laugh. “No, Tommy. That was… uh, definitely not too much.”

“Thank God,” Thomas said with a smirk as Newt raised his hands to rest on his chest and leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching. He was suddenly all too aware that he had Newt pinned against the car so that they were pressed firmly together. He felt the need to take a step back but when he tried to, Newt only pulled him in again for another kiss.

 

“Promise not to weird out on me again?” Newt said much later as they started up the car.

“Yeah. Promise.”

“That includes blushing like a slinthead every time I touch you.”

“Oh.” Thomas grimaced at Newt jokingly. “Can’t promise that.”

Newt rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “stupid bloody shank”. Thomas couldn’t help but laugh.

 

They returned to camp subtly without much incident, other than Frypan throwing them a confused look when they greeted him overly enthusiastically with wide smiles. Thomas was doing it out of nervousness that their friend would immediately be able to sense something had changed. Newt just seemed genuinely happy.

Later, they gathered in Brenda and Jorge’s room to report back. Not that there was much to report.

“Nothing at all?” Jorge moaned, visibly disappointed. “Goddammit.”

“We can go again,” Thomas replied firmly. “Keep watching, move to different areas. We’ll see something eventually. And in the meantime we keep listening to the radios. Soon we’ll get one or another - or both.”

“Don’t give up, man. We weren’t expecting to get all the answers in one day,” Frypan said calmly, clapping a hand to Jorge’s shoulder.

“You’re right, hermano.”

“Agreed,” Brenda spoke up from where she stood behind Newt. Thomas tried not to let his eyes wander to him as she spoke. “But I think we should tell Vince, that way it doesn’t just have to be you two going - I’m sorry, Thomas?”

“Yeah?” Thomas choked out too fast, worried she’d witnessed the soft, secretive smile he’d just aimed in Newt’s direction.

“Is that a hickey?”

Every head turned in his direction and Thomas could feel himself going bright red. Frypan grabbed his chin and forced his head up, getting a good look for himself, before bursting into vibrant laughter; Thomas slapped his hand away. Brenda shook her head with an amused smile, Jorge raised his eyebrows, Harriet giggled quietly. 

“No!” Thomas said indignantly, racking his brains desperately for any excuse. He automatically looked to Newt for help before realising that was possibly the worst thing he could’ve done. Brenda grabbed Newt’s shoulders from behind and bent around him, apparently checking his neck too. Newt groaned and shook her off but Thomas could tell he was fighting off a smile.

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” Newt complained.

“Oh, come on,” Frypan said, still grinning from ear to ear. “That definitely wasn’t there this morning.” He pointed at Thomas’ neck triumphantly as the boy frantically tried to pull the collar of his jacket up further. 

“And?” Thomas asked stubbornly.

“And unless you two met some friendly faces on your travels, you’ve been alone all day.” Brenda dragged out her words as if she was talking to a child.

“I was bitten,” Thomas stated suddenly. He was fully aware of how lame he sounded. “By a bug.”

They all descended into laughing fits once again. When Thomas caught Newt’s eye, he couldn’t help but join in.

 

It took several attempts to get the relentless teasing to stop so they could get back on track, but Thomas got there eventually. They all decided it was best to get Vince in on their plans and to their pleasant surprise, he agreed that watching the trains was a good idea.

“Newt and Thomas, you go out again tomorrow,” he ordered after they’d filled him in and gotten his approval, nodding towards the two of them. Thomas felt a jolt of excitement in the pit of his stomach. “Jorge and Brenda stay watching the radios. We work this out.”

Thomas lay in bed that night trying to fight the smile off of his face. He looked at Newt and couldn’t stop it from breaking free.

“We’re getting Minho back,” Thomas whispered. “I know it.”

“I believe you, Tommy,” Newt replied. Thomas had the strongest urge to reach for his hand.

“Not that I don’t agree with you guys,” Frypan said. Thomas turned to see him fixing the two of them with a fierce gaze. “But if I wake up and find you two in the same bed, I’mma puke.”

 

The atmosphere in the truck was very different from the morning before. There was still some tension, which Thomas put down to the fact they hadn’t been alone together since yesterday afternoon. Instead of it making him feel sick with nerves, however, Thomas happily basked in the gentle buzz of the silence between them. He looked over at Newt and found the other boy smirking.

“What?” Thomas asked with a laugh. Newt jolted out of his trance and looked at Thomas, confused. Clearly, he hadn’t been aware of his own expression. “What were you smiling about?”

“Was thinkin’ about Frypan,” Newt explained.

“Charming.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “About what he said when we left, shank.”

“‘Don’t get distracted’?” Thomas was smiling now, too. Newt nodded. “You think that’ll be a problem for you?”

Newt let out an incredulous laugh. “Not at all, Tommy.”

“No?”

“Nope. Will it for you?” He reached over to lay a hand on Thomas’ leg as he said it and Thomas couldn’t help but think this was cheating.

“Definitely not,” he said, but the crack in his voice was anything but convincing.

“Good, ‘cause we’re here.”

They pulled in to a spot a little further up than they were yesterday but with just as good a view of the tracks. Thomas pulled out his binoculars, notepad and pen and settled himself comfortably, ready and hopeful. 

“Newt, about yesterday…” Thomas said after a little while of focusing on the tracks.

“Second thoughts?”

“Will you stop saying that?” he snapped even though Newt was laughing. “I just wanted to say… I feel like I said some stuff that, uh, I didn’t mean. Because I was angry. So, sorry about that.”

Newt studied him with a fond smile. “Me too, Tommy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure I called you an idiot at least once,” Newt grinned.

“You didn’t mean that?”

“Well…” 

Thomas punched him in the shoulder, laughing. Both of their expressions softened as they looked each other in the eyes. “Let’s just ignore the stupid shit we said and focus on the good parts.”

“Good that,” Newt replied, and after a long exhale: “Now kiss me.”

Thomas’ heart skipped a beat. He tried to act like Newt’s demand didn’t make his stomach tie itself in knots and leaned forwards across the gap between their seats. He reached out and placed a hand on Newt’s cheek, making sure to be much gentler than he had yesterday. When their lips met, Newt let out a sigh of relief that made Thomas’ heart rate increase significantly.

Newt placed one of his own hands over Thomas’ as it cupped his jaw. The other reached across to grab his arm, as it was about as far as he could stretch comfortably. As the kiss deepened and Newt swiped his tongue against Thomas’, the dark-haired boy became impatient with the distance between them.

“Get over here,” he mumbled lowly against Newt’s lips. Newt looked confused for a moment, but Thomas immediately began demonstrating what he meant by moving a hand to Newt’s waist and pulling him forwards. Newt scrambled up and awkwardly made his way across into Thomas’ seat.

“You bloody come here,” he grumbled back and Thomas laughed at the statement considering he was already halfway there. Then Newt settled himself in Thomas’ lap, one leg either side of him, and the humour of the situation quickly disappeared. “You’re so demanding.”

“Says the one who practically ordered me to kiss them,” Thomas quipped back, his smug smirk returning. He put one hand on Newt’s hip and traced the other up and down his back. Newt braced himself on Thomas’ shoulders.

“I bloody hate you,” Newt whispered, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Thomas’ lips.

“Really?” Thomas muttered back. “‘Cause I seem to remember you telling me you loved me less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“Shut up.”

With that, Thomas pulled Newt back into him. Though he was teasing him about it, he didn’t want to pressure Newt into repeating what had slipped out of his mouth in anger yesterday. For now, he was perfectly happy to have his best friend in his arms and drown in the all-consuming ecstasy of his kisses. And although he was desperate for a train to come by so that they would have a lead to follow to find their friends, Thomas felt like he could get used to conducting research for their rescue mission if this was what it entailed.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for being so lovely on my last fic!
> 
> please feel free to let me know what you thought of this one <333


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